domestic omens

The storm is over. It has been so comfortable to lie in
Aziraphale’s arms, listening to the heavy raindrops drumming against the
window, until falling asleep. But it was hours ago, as Crowley can tell by the
feeble light of dawn creeping into the bedroom, and now he feels his left side and
arm going numb. He needs to change position. A couple nights haven’t been enough
for him to get used to sleeping in the same bed with someone - someone…
Aziraphale, no less… it’s still hard to believe – and to reducing his
movements.

He suppresses a sigh. It feels so good to snuggle into
Aziraphale’s heat. And he doesn’t want to wake him up. Crowley carefully
extricates himself from the soft arms and looks at Aziraphale’s peaceful face.
His angel is breathing heavily with his mouth open. Crowley smiles fondly before turning
over. Okay. A few minutes on this side and he will return to-

With a sleepy groan of protest, Aziraphale shifts to nestle against
Crowley’s back, slipping an arm around his waist.

Can you imagine how domestic Crowley & Aziraphale must sound to other people? With Crowley calling Aziraphale 'Angel' and Aziraphale calling Crowley 'dear', I bet their known all throughout the neighborhood as that one super cute domestic gay couple